Darkness
That was all Peter could see. Then, light suddenly filled his vision. As his eyes adjusted, he could finally see what was in front of him.
He was in a well lit alleyway, alone with nothing but a dumpster next to him. Unlike most dreams, he could actually move in this one.
He stared at his hands as he saw himself able to lift his arms and move his fingers. He noticed he was in his Spider-Man suit, without the mask. A scream caught his attention, making him turn his head. Not just any scream. Aunt May's scream.
To Peter's right, there was another alleyway across the street. It wasn't as lit up as the one he was in, but he could still make out the people in it and what was going on.
First, he saw Aunt May. His heart ached at what he knew was now a memory, and another nightmare that would haunt him forever.
Second, he saw that she was being held hostage, gun pressed against her head. What was worse was the person holding it. None other than his torturer.
"Howells," Peter spat.
"Remember me?" Howells said in a sarcastic voice.
"Let her go," Peter warned.
Howells just laughed, "And why would I do that? You took who I loved most, it's only fair I take who you value!"
"Please," Peter practically begged.
He couldn't stand having these dreams repeat themselves. Watching Aunt May die in so many different ways.
"I'll give you ten seconds to stop me. Don't, and I'll blow her brains out," Howells said, pushing the gun harder against Aunt May's head, making her whimper.
"No!" Peter screamed, as he started to run towards Howells.
In a second, Peter felt something forcefully grab his arms. He jolted backwards, trying to scramble to his feet and make it to May.
Peter looked behind him to see what was holding him back. He was surprised to see it was a person, rather than being tied down like he normally would be in these scenarios.
It was Tony. His eyes were empty as he held Peter's arms. It may have been a dream—no, a nightmare, but it felt like the grip Tony had on his arms would leave a nasty bruise.
"Don't you remember what I said, Peter? No more Spider-Man. No more saving the day," Tony said.
"What?! You have to let me help her-"
"10," Howells said, cutting Peter off as he began counting down.
Peter turned back around to face Howells and his aunt. May's face was filled with horror.
"9"
"Stop," Peter said, trying to shake himself free from Tony's grasp.
"8," Howells said, a sinister smile crossing his face that seemed to keep growing wider by the second.
"Let me go! I have to—"
"7"
"Please!" Peter pleaded, trying to break free.
"6"
"Help me Peter!" Aunt May said, tears rolling down her face.
"5"
"No! You can't!" Peter was fuming, but still wasn't able to get out of Tony's grip.
His cheeks were red and his face was hot as floods of tears poured out of his eyes.
"4"
With every passing second, Peter got angrier. He tried kicking at Tony. Clawing at the hands that held his arms, desperate to save his aunt.
"3," Howells said, slowing down his counting and cocking the revolver in his hand.
"Please! You, she—I-I can't go through this again," Peter said, looking like a mess with his face covered with his own tears.
"2"
"Peter, please, help me! I need you, I—"
"1," Howells said, his finger starting to wrap itself tighter against the trigger.
Peter closed his eyes and looked down, hearing his aunt scream and waiting for the sound of the gunshot to end her life.
Instead, his head was yanked up by his hair. He was no longer being held by Tony, he was chained. Tony was in front of him now. He was the one who grabbed a fist full of Peter's hair and forced him to look up.
"You think you can close your eyes and make it go away? You're going to watch this, whether you like it or not," Tony said.
At first Peter was confused. Before he could even think of anything though, he saw Aunt May and Howells again. Gun still pressed to her head.
He closed his eyes, about to look down again before being stopped. Forcefully his head was yanked up to look straight. His eyes were pried open by Tony, forcing him to watch.
The same horrible thing happened. Aunt May was shot. He heard her scream, then everything fell silent. She was dead. He failed her. He couldn't even save her in his dreams which he had control in.
"She isn't the only one you've failed," Peter heard Tony say as other scenes appeared in front of him.
More people being threatened. More people he was unable to save. Again, he tried to rush to their aid. But Tony still held him back.
"Remember, you're not Spider-Man anymore. You can't help them," Tony said.
The grip on Peter's arms somehow tightened even more, yet he didn't give up trying to get free.
"No!"
Peter opened his eyes, his arms being held by Tony. Peter looked at him with absolute terror in his eyes.
Tony noticed immediately, then proceeded to ask, "Geez kid, are you okay?"
"S-stay away!" Peter said, finally able to pull his hands out of Tony's grasp. He didn't even care that he broke his vow to not speak to Tony, he just wanted to be as far away from him as possible.
Tony, shocked Peter said something to him, didn't know what Peter said at first. Then it registered to him, and he was confused.
"What's wrong, Peter?" Tony asked, not caring to hide the concern in his voice.
"No, l-leave me alone!" Peter said, pressing his back against the bed frame and pulling the covers up to his chest.
"Hey, what happened? You can tell me, it's all right," Tony said comfortingly, trying to scoot closer to Peter.
This only made the teen shrink back further, and he was slightly... shaking?
"Pete-"
"Now's n-not a good time. Please, leave," Peter said, shivering in fear.
Tony hesitated, but thought he made some sort of progress in having the kid talk to him. He decided to give Peter what he wanted.
"Okay," Tony said, then quietly left the room.
Once the door shut, Peter sighed. He did not want to be under the same roof as Tony. Sure, he knew it was just a dream, it wasn't the real Tony. But waking up and him being right there, holding his arms like he was scared him.
It wasn't until now he Peter realized how hot he was. He tossed the blankets off the bed, but ended up sitting on the floor instead, he was so hot. Sweating.
Back pressed against the cool wall, Peter looked around. This room was a lot bigger than the one at the apartment, but he hated it.
Living in this room meant living without Aunt May. Gosh, it's been over a month now, why wasn't he over it? Or at least close to being over it.
Peter looked at the stuff in his room he had here that he didn't in his old room. He hadn't put up anything on the walls but a clock, and the rest of the room was pretty boring.
His bed sheets were a dark red with nothing on them. His bed frame was a simple one made of wood, with storage compartments underneath it.
Peter frowned, he remembered putting stuff in there but he couldn't remember what. He scooted towards the bed and opened the first drawer.
He laughed quietly as he saw old pajamas he got when he was 6. They were so small, but Aunt May got them for him and he couldn't throw them away.
He opened the second drawer, which was empty. Maybe he didn't put much of anything in these drawers.
Peter opened the last drawer, and what he saw made his heart ache even more. Inside were the wrapped presents Aunt May had gotten him for his birthday.
Peter smiled at the wrapping. Normally, they had birthday wrapping paper. There was one time though, for his last birthday when Aunt May had used Christmas wrapping paper instead, because she was out of the birthday kind. It made him laugh, and May said from them on she would use Christmas paper on every present.
He still had yet to open the Christmas themed presents. Curious, Peter decided it was finally time to see what was inside the wrapped boxes.
He slowly tore off the paper. The fact that Aunt May herself wrapped these made Peter feel bad for opening them.
The first box was average size, and he opened it up to see what was inside. He took out a bag with the label 'Gym Chalk' on it.
Peter instantly knew why Aunt May got him it. He remembered getting into working out more, and telling her how he didn't like the feel of the padded gloves that gave you grip.
Aunt May, being the great gift giver she is—was, Peter corrected himself, had gotten him the chalk to use on his hands so he could have grip and not wear the stupid gloves.
He put down the bag and picked up the second gift. It was smaller and wrapped tighter than the other one had been.
Peter took off the paper and opened the box. Inside were two pieces of paper. 2 tickets more like, to be exact. Tickets to his favorite band.
The concert was in a week.
Tears once again poured out of Peter's eyes. Aunt May liked giving gifts that would make memories. Things that would have them spend time together. It was one of the things he loved most about her.
Peter knew he would never use the chalk. He wasn't materialistic, but it was possibly one of the last things Aunt May had touched. And it was for him.
It meant to much to use. He could buy another bag anyways, and not have to use the one he was given.
Peter got picked up the blankets and got back in bed. He checked the time, 3:29 a.m. He still had a decent amount of sleep left, and somehow he felt different.
Better, after opening the presents. He was glad he did. They gave him some sort of peace he didn't know he needed.
For the first time since Aunt May died, Peter went to sleep and didn't have a nightmare.
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What'd I tell ya? I update faster with more reviews ;)
(Don't get used to it, it may not always be in a day or 2. A week at most probably though)
For anyone new who doesn't understand, the presents came from the last story. Aunt May died the day before Peter's birthday and he had yet to open the gifts.
Please review, thanks :D
